


Day Two-ish (Read: Arthur's No Good Very Bad Day)

by ZelithebaRuebens67



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur Freaking out, Crying, Daddy!Eames, Diapers, How Do I Tag, I Just Throw Arthur Through The Ringer, I'm Sorry, Implied Relationship, Like, Little!Arthur, M/M, Temper Tantrums, Wetting, Whump, a continuation of sorts, arthur getting the care he deserves, bubble baths, he author is dumb, he's a good one, i dunno, it's connected but, not?, sorry y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 04:02:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21155300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZelithebaRuebens67/pseuds/ZelithebaRuebens67
Summary: They were both stressed, Arthur More so because of... The Incident, but one day doesn't necessarily mean he's not a grown up any more, he's a point man for Heavens sake. (Or, Arthur is skittish around Eames after the first time and doesn't want to let go of the control he has but ends up slipping anyway.)





	Day Two-ish (Read: Arthur's No Good Very Bad Day)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! First, I am so sorry this took forever and a day to get here, and it's not as good as i wanted to be. It felt rushed bu I knew if it didn't get out soon, it never would.  
So even though it's not as in depth or the greatest, i hope you enjoy i anyway! Let me know if you see any mistakes or errors, this is not beta'd.  
Thank you! Enjoy!

I had been a while since that big starting point in Eames’ and Arthur’s relationship. 98 days to be matter of fact. Even though he was impatiently keeping track of the time passing, he didn’t want to rush Arthur into doing something he wasn’t exactly comfortable with, he knew after he “came to” he freaked out for two days straight, wouldn’t look Eames in the eye for a whole day. It was adorable. Eames made it a point to talk to him all day just to see the blush rush across his cheeks, turn the tips of his ears fire engine red, and hear the slight stutter in his voice when he responded. It was day two, however, that had Eames wondering if this entire thing was a good idea. He came home to Arthur crying his eyes out, having an identity crisis; a complete and total meltdown. Eames rushed over to him and picked him up, rocking and shushing him, giving gentle kind words in response to the loud sobbed self-accusations he was spitting out. It took hi three hours to get Arthur to calm down to shallow gasps. He ended the night by changing a dazed Arthur into pajamas, tucking him in and sitting next to him on the bed, talking to him as soft as his gravely voice would let him. he didn’t even remember passing out. When he woke up he panicked when he didn’t see Arthur, jumping out of bed and fast walking to the kitchen. He stopped dead when he saw Arthur at the table, decked out in the deep blue four-piece suit that emphasized the curls in his hair. He must have looked really confused because Arthur raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Mr. Eames,” he asked, hesitant, cautious.

“I…you… you... have a job,” Eames managed to choke out. 

For some reason, seeing Arthur so put together after his extreme moment of vulnerability yesterday was.. jarring. 

“…Yes,” Arthur said slowly, “is that okay?”

“I- of course! That’s.. great,” Eames forced out, trying to smile.

The left corner of Arthur’s mouth spasmed and he huffed.

“I have a question, more of a request if you will,” Eames rushed out.

Arthur cocked his head to the left, curious on where this was going.

“Can we.. talk about yesterday,” Eames asked.

Arthur stiffened, face turning to tone, already emitting tension into the room.

“perhaps when I get back,” he deliberated.

Eames wanted to call him out on it, he really did, but instead, he bit his lip and nodded, preparing to get the full story when he came back. So, he got up, kissed Arthur good bye, held him a bit longer than normal, and let him be on his way.  
From that day on, fate intended to keep that conversation a mystery; every time Arthur came back, Eames was either leaving for a job or a few days in, and vice-versa, and Eames would never drag that side out of the bedroom when they worked together. Whenever they had the rare day off together, they were too tired to really do anything but sleep and space out to Netflix. 

So, it came as a lovely surprise when Arthur announced that they were taking a much need vacation. That was a week and a half ago and Arthur was still stressing out over a job that had yet to be put into the works. Eames knew he was just trying to distance and distract himself from that night and the incident that brought it on. Eames had asked him if he’d rather spend his vacation alone, though. He knew it had been too long to broach the subject comfortably and that Arthur expected to jump him and lock him straight into a diaper. Honestly, Eames just wanted some basic communication that didn’t have to do with work. He really wanted to know if Arthur was okay. He didn’t want to make Arthur any more uncomfortable then he already was though, so for the most part, h left the man alone, letting him think that he thought he was busy.

As he woke up and was about to get into his normal routine, he decided to spice things up and go check on Arthur first.

He put on his robe and started making his way down the hall towards the office room, peeking in and getting ready to make a smart quip about being a workaholic when the sight in front of him stopped him dead in his tracks. Arthur was rocking himself on the floor, staring blankly at the spot in front of him, fists full of his hair.  
Eames hesitated a moment, unsure of how to proceed here, he didn’t want to scare Arthur away…. His legs started taking him to Arthur before his sleep addled brain made a proper decision though. He crouched down and started rubbing slow (and what he hoped was soothing) circles on his back. 

“Arthur,” Eames asked softly.

"Hmm,” Arthur grunted.

“Love… what are you doing,” Eames asked, still rubbing Arthur’s back.

“M’working,” Arthur mumbled, eyes widening and rock quickening.  
Eames was quiet for a minute, processing what was happening here, what his next step should be.

"And what happened…,” he asked hesitantly.

Arthur stopped rocking and slammed his fists down to the ground, whipping his head up, giving Eames a wild-eyed stare.

“Nothing,” he said, sounding strangled.

Eames gave a grunt of confirmation, rubbing his back while trying to avoid his crazy stare.

“perhaps it’s time for a break love,” Eames suggesting.

“Don’t! Don’t tell me what to do Eames! This is my break too and don’t you dare tell me how I can or should spend it! I’m NOT A CHILD,” Arthur screamed.

Eames stopped and jumped up, placing his hands up in front of him and stepping back quickly.

“No one said you were Arthur, no one said anything about what you should do, I suggested a break. That could have been breakfast, coffee, a jog, hell Arthur, an honest to God’s hour of sleep on a real bed. Anything that doesn’t involve the godforsaken computer you’ve been attached to for days on end,” Eames said, voice raising.

Arthur looked down at the ground, hugging himself and rocking back and forth again. Eames put his hands down and sighed, slowly making his way towards Arthur again.

“You can’t keep doing this Arthur, you’re going to send yourself to an early grave. I’m convinced you’ve already broken your mind,” Eames said wearily.

“I’m.. broken,” Arthur choked out.

“No love, not broken like that, I just meant you need a moment, a real honest moment for yourself. Take a bath, go for a walk, anything! Anything but sit here and spiral yourself into an anxious stupor. I don’t like seeing you hurt yourself love,” Eames said, crouching in front of Arthur’s line of sight.

Arthur pulled his knees up to his chest and barricaded his head with his arms on them, “I…,” he let it drop there.

Eames started carding his fingers though Arthurs hair, “you what love,” 

“I can’t,” he sobbed out, “I don’t know how… don’t know how to.. turn off.”

“oh love,” Eames cooed, making Arthur start to cry.

“no Arthur, don’t cry honey, don’t cry, it’ll be okay, look, all we need to do is turn the computer off love, that’s all, or we can let it go to sleep if you’re working on something really important,” Eames rushed, trying to sooth Arthur’s sobs.

“I CAN’T,” Arthur wailed.

Eames stopped for a second, brain working a mile a minute, a genuine idea forming in his mind.   
“Do you… do you want daddy to take care of this,” Eames hesitated.

“Are you serious,” Arthur nearly screamed, hysterical.

“Hear me out love, you need a break, but… can’t.. give yourself one. If…this was... taken out of your hands, so to say, it might be easier…,” he trailed off.

Arthur sniffled in the silence. as Eames was panicking so hard, he missed the muffled words from Arthur.

“I’m.. sorry love, what was that?”

“I said fine! I Consent! I relinquish control, I.. I.. need help. Can I.. get help. Please,” he croaked out.

“Of course, love, of course, daddy’s right here love, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Eames said, gathering Arthur into his arms.

Arthur cried harder, bordering on sobs but not quite there yet.

“Tell me what happened love, what’s making my little boy so upset?”

“I.. I.. I just... I couldn’t and then I st-started th-thinking about beh-bed and how sleep sounded s-so good, and then I reh-remembered you w-were still sleeping, and I pan-icked because if.. I w-woke you uhp then you’d either want to lock me in a p-prison right away or w-want to t-talk and I r-really don’t want to, I want to put that be-hind me, so I just stood up and I’m three days in and you’re right Eames, I need a break, I need sleep, I need.. I need,” Eames could hear the quiver in Arthur’s voice at this point, breaking his heart into pieces.

“What love, what do you need,” he whispered.  
“I n-need, I need my Daddy,” Arthur wailed. 

Eames froze for a spit second, heart melting, then realization kicked in as he heard Arthur gasping hard for air. He stood up and started rocking Arthur in his arms, deliberately overthinking about what to say.

“There’s nothing wrong with that love. There never will be. Anything you need, anything you want, I’m here for you. Even if you just want to cuddle as a grown up, Arthur, that’s fine. I fell in love with the man first. I promised my life to you Arthur. All you have to do is talk to me love. Communicate. I love being with you, little or big, and I don’t want you consenting to things you aren’t comfortable with love, because then it’s not consent anymore. But talk to me love, tell me these things. I love you, Arthur, so very much, and I don’t want you to hurt my darling.”

Arthur started sobbing, saying “sorry,” repeatedly, and as much as Eames desperately wanted to ask what for, he kept trying to calm Arthur down  
Around the fourth round of ‘sorry’s’, something happened. First, Arthur stopped muttering and gasped, second, Eames felt something warm on his chest.

“Love,” Eames asked warily.

Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, kicking his way out of Eames arms and scrambling towards the closet, leaving Eames standing there, confused as all hell and freaking out. He looked down at the spot on his robe and gave it a sniff. The strong smell of ammonia hit him and he gave a pitying glance towards the closet.

“Arthur love, come here.”

“NO,” he wailed.

“Darling come out now, it’s okay, an we have to get you cleaned up before you get a rash love,” eames said, striding towards the closet.

“Please no,” he heard the tiny broken voice plead.

"Arthur, come on love, let daddy help you,”

He heard a half sob and heard the handle turn. He didn’t come out but opening the door was sign enough that it was okay to proceed. He stepped in and picked Arthur up, hugging him tightly to his chest.

Arthur was hiccuping and struggling, “m’wet, don’t, m’gross,”  
Eames picked Arthur’s chin up, so he was looking directly into his eyes, “Daddy’s got you, Arthur, you’re not gross. Let me hug your troubles away love.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he shushed.

Arthur went limp and Eames started towards the bathroom, carefully maneuvering them out he doorways. He turned on the hot water and put Arthur on the sink counter, slowly removing his wet clothes, all while Arthur was sniffling and hiding his face. It was a heartbreakingly adorable.

Finally, clothes all off and Arthur still sniffling, eyes covered, Eames shifted over to the tub, pouring a concoction and throwing in a bath bomb, making the bathroom smell sweet, almost sickeningly so. Eames threw quick glances at Arthur every so often, paying attention to his breathing and posture, making sure he didn’t start panicking again. For what seemed like eternity, the bath was finally full. Eames stepped over to where Arthur was laying, eyes still covered, breathing slowed though that was a plus. 

Eames lifted him gently, and while Arthur’s breathing hitched, he instinctively curled into Eames, making his heart blossom with pride and warmth.  
He lowered him into the tub gently, taking extra care not to double over in himself, and began pouring shampoo into his hands.

“Right love, hair first, chin up, “ Eames said gently.

Arthur sniffed and tilted his chin up, slowly relaxing as Eames massaged his head.

Arthur lazily opened his eyes, watching as Eames smiled down at him with such warmth, such love, it almost hurt.

Arthur chuckled and closed his eyes, opting to shut his brain off for a moment. Eames chuckled lightly as he saw Arthur sink back and relax. He rinsed and began washing him, face to feet it was a slow gentle process that put Arthur to sleep twice.

Finally done, Eames pulled the plug and lifted Arthur out, set him on the tire, wrapped him like a burrito real quick, and made their way towards the room.  
Eames laid him on the bed and began to gently him off, making Arthur doze off.

By the time he was done Eames cod hear light snores coming from Arthur, making him smile. He stood looking for a while, debating with himself whether or not to do what he was about to do. Before he reached a definite conclusion, his body was taking him to where they kept all the supplies and found himself picking out a diaper, a onesie and socks before he could process that maybe he should stop himself.

He made it to Arthur, looked at him for a bit, and quickly began the process. He warmed up the diaper rash cream in his hands for a bit before spreading it generously over Arthur’s bits, lifting him quickly and gently, setting him on the think diaper, pondering him, and closing him up, not once making Arthur stir or awaken, which was incredibly rare, not much could get past the point man, even on a day off.  
Eames shook his head, telling himself it was stress and all the crying from the morning keeping him asleep.  
Admiring his work, Eames smiled and picked Arthur up to his chest, hugging him tighter as Arthur curled into him. 

He went towards the top of the bed and scooted towards the middle, cuddling and rocking Arthur, singing, very softly, an old Beatles song he heard when he was a child.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank You for Reading!


End file.
